Jacob Fallon- Gone, But Not Forgotten
by MaltaraForever11
Summary: This one-shot story tells how Jacob found out Angela was pregnant with Mal, and his journey with Angela through her pregnancy! Please read and review! It would mean the world to me!


** Jacob Fallon**

You look at your beautiful wife, Angela Fallon. It is September 30, 1977. Your daughter, Cynthia, is running around merrily. She just turned 2, and has gotten completely used to walking. Your wife has just told you she has big news, but wants to wait until Cynthy is sleeping.

"Come on, cupcake." You say smiling at her. You pick her up, and carry her to her nursery.

About a half hour later, you walk back out into your living room. You sit down on the couch where your wife is, and take her hand, "Honey, what is it? Is everything alright?"

She smiles, "Everything is great, Jacob...I'm pregnant." Those words practically roll of her tongue with glee, her smile says it all. She already loves this baby, regardless of how long she's known that's he or she's on the way.

A huge smile crosses your face, "Angela, that's fantastic! I love you so much, I can't wait till her or she gets here."

You take your wife and pull her into a passionate kiss, after a couple of moments, she pulls away, but goes back in to hug you. You two begin laughing merrily, and you continue to smile.

You stay like that for what seems like forever, giving you time to think about...everything! "What are we gonna name it if it's a girl? What are we gonna name it if it's a boy?" You already know that one, 'Malachi...Mal. Detective Mal Fallon, following in his dad's footsteps!' Wait, Jacob, you shouldn't think like that, what if it's a girl...What about the stuff you've been doing...No. You know you've made some decisions, bad decisions...but you're gonna do everything you can to be a good dad. Not like your father, you're gonna tell him or her you love them much as possible. You're gonna be fine. You're gonna be fine."

Your wife pulls back, "I love you so much, Jacob."

"I love you too, Angie. I love you too."

About sixteen weeks later, your wife shouts at you, "Come on, Jacob, we're gonna be late for our doctors appointment!"

Today is the day! You're finally going to be able to stop calling the baby, 'it'! You're gonna find out the sex of the baby. "I'm coming!" You yell back, grabbing your jacket. "God, she's gotten hormonal. She's worse than she was with Cynthia..." You think, walking out to the car. You open the drivers seat door, and climb in, putting the key in the ignition.

"What took you so long?" She says. You just look at her, deciding it's best not to say anything, and drive away.

Fifteen minutes later you pull up to the doctors' office and check in. After about ten minutes of waiting, the doctors comes out and says, "Angela Fallon." She leads you through the hallways, and into a room with a monitor, and instructs Angela get on a table

The doctor makes brief conversation with Angela while she's setting things up, putting on gloves, and just doing what you presume is necessary for the ultra sound. Finally, she starts to lift up Angela's shirt, revealing her bulging belly, you mean that in the nicest way possible, and begins to spread the jelly all over her stomach.

She picks up the sonogram wand, and touches it to her stomach. Within moments, a picture appears on the screen, showing something that is shaped like a baby, but it's butt facing up, clearly showing a sure sign of manhood. Angela starts laughing gleefully and smiling, a tear runs down her cheek.

"Honey, I do believe we're having a baby boy." You say, the biggest grin crossing his face, "My little Mal."

Later, it's the beginning of June, and Mal's due date, June 16, is near. Angela is hormonal as hell, and has had an appetite for the weirdest things, at the weirdest times...

3:00 am, The Night Before

"Pssh! Jacob! Jacob, wake up!" Your wife says to you, hitting you on the shoulder. You roll over, "What!?"

"I'm hungry!"

"Oh no, not again..."

"Jacob," she says, "I'm the one who has to carry this baby around, and sque-"

"Alright! Alright, just don't start with the speech again...Whaddaya what?

"I want lasagna!", she says, as if that's totally normal.

"Angie...," you say, "where the hell am I gonna get lasagna at," you look at the clock, "3:00 in the morning!?"

"I don't know, I. Just. Want. Lasagna!"

You sigh, but reluctantly get out of bed, "Ok, 'love muffin'" You leave the room, and go get in your car.

After about one and a half hour of searching, you've finally found lasagna, and have pulled into your driveway.

You open your front door and walk into the kitchen, and prepare the lasagna. It was actually a Marie Calendars Microwavable Meal, but Angela didn't need to know that. You scrape the lasagna out of the tray it came in, and put it on a much nicer looking glass plate.

You walk into your bedroom, and Angela eagerly sits up in bed, "Oh thank Goodness! I thought I was gonna die of hunger! Thank you, I love you, so much."

You roll your eyes handing her the plate, "You're welcome." You topple over into bed and pass out instantly...

The Present

Angela walks into the room clutching her belly. "I've put Cynthy to sleep," she says.

"That's good," you say, "So honey, we need to talk about what we want to name the baby."

"What would you like? You were telling about one name when we or back from the OBGYN appointment. What was it?" she says.

"Malachi. Mal."

"And I loved it," Angela says with a smiling face, "Our little Mal."

"After the first Chief of Police of San Francisco, Malachi Fallon."

Angela rolls her eyes and smiles, "I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Oh!" she says.

"What is it?"

"The baby just kicked! Put your hand on my belly!"

You lay your hand on her stomach, and sure enough, you can feel the kicking of the baby from the inside.

"I can tell he's gonna be trouble," Angela says laughing.

June 9th, 4:00am

You are awakened by the frantic voice of Angela, as she shakes your shoulder. You've been on high alert, since Mal's due date was drawing closer, but nothing can really prepare you for this moment.

"Jacob!" she hisses

You sit straight up, "What's wrong?!"

"My water just broke!" She starts breathing heavily.

You leap out of bed, fully alert, "I'll go start the car, ok? Just stay calm. I'll call your mother and ask her to meet us at the hospital for Cynthia."

Her breathing slows, "Ok." She sits down on the bed.

You go to the kitchen, grab the car keys off the kitchen counter, and dash out to the car!

Once you've started the car, you sprint back inside to Cynthia's room. You quickly gather necessary supplies, wipes, diapers, etc, and put them in the diaper bag. You go to the kitchen, and quickly prepare a, "sippy cup with 'juss' (juice)" as Cynthy would say, and put it into the side pocket of the diaper bag. You sling the bag over your shoulder, and return to Cynthia's room. You wrap her in a blanket, and scoop her up out of the crib, and carry her to the car.

As you walk, you whisper in her ear, "You're going to be a big sister. Tonight, you're getting a new baby brother."

You look down at her face, and she gently stirs in your arms, licking her lips.

You put her in her car seat, and lay the diaper bag next to her. You then dash into the house, and look at the clock, "4:07" All that in seven minutes...impressive, Jacob!

You dial Angela's mother, and explain that Angela has gone into labor, and we need her to meet us a the hospital, "Of course, of course!" she says excitedly, and hangs up.

You reach Angela in the bedroom, and help her up. She wraps her arms around your shoulders, and uses you as support.

You help Angela into the backseat of the car, and run over to get in the driver's seat.

Angela tends to a now awake Cynthia, when all of sudden Angela screams in agony, and hunches over in her seat, "Oh my god! It's like, period cramps multiplied by 10!"

You figure this is a contraction and tell her it's okay, and that it's only ten minutes to the hospital. You take note of the time, "4:14"

Ten minutes later, at 4:24, you've gotten Angela into a wheelchair, and thankfully Angie's mom and father pulled up in the parking lot right when we did, and agreed to take Cynthia inside the hospital while I pushed Angie in the chair.

2 hours later, Angela's contractions have gotten down to 5 minutes apart, and the doctors are preparing her, and themselves, to go into labor. Angie's sister showed up, and took Cynthy home, while Angie's mother and father wanted to stay.

The nurse comes out into the waiting room, and tells Angie's mother and I that she wants us in the room, and even her father if he wants to. Her father declines, saying he's squeamish, but tells me to tell her that he loves her.

The next hour is a blur, Angela declined the pain medication earlier that evening, but now is strongly regretting that decision. Her contractions get down to 2 minutes apart, and that's when the doctors tell her to push. She's holding your hand, and when she stars to push, you almost regret letting her.

She's squeezing your hand so hard, you thought it was going to have to be amputated. Four pushes later, you hear the faint sound of a baby crying, gasping for air. You see the flashs of skin covered in blood, and other sticky substances as the nurses clean him off. They cut his umbilical cord, and replace the end with a tag.

After that, you just simply tune out. You look at Angela, who lays back in bed, and closes her eyes, exhausted. The nurses finish up cleaning him up, and he's stopped crying. The nurse gently picks him up in her arms and asks your if you'd like to hold him, "Yes, thank you."

She hands him to you, and you look at him with tears in your eyes. He has a nose just like Angela, and has big, beautiful ocean blue eyes, even bluer than yours.

You stand there for a little over ten minutes holding him, looking at him, until you realize Angela probably wants to hold him, too. You cross the room, where Angela holds her as out eagerly. You hand the baby to her, and tears begin too fall from her eyes, "Look how blue his eyes are, and he has your full upper lip, and my full bottom lip."

"He's beautiful." the nurses say, "What are you naming him?"

You look at Angela, "Malachi." she says.

You look at the nurses,"Mal Our little Mal.


End file.
